


Breezeblocks

by tater_thot



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Creek is the main shit, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Okay maybe it's all just angst., One-Sided Cryde, Songfic, Started as a drabble, The violence isn't very graphic at all but idk, They're adults btw, Tho Tweet isn't there much, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 13:59:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12608184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tater_thot/pseuds/tater_thot
Summary: Craig and Tweek are in a happy, healthy relationship.Not everyone is so happy about this._____________110% Based off of the lyrics and music video for Alt-J's Breezeblocks





	Breezeblocks

_Please Don't go, please don't go,_

_I love you so, I love you so_

* * *

 

 

Craig Tucker never had much of a hard life. He had a family who loved and accepted him, (well, for the most part) a job that paid well more than he really needed, friends to drink into the night with, and a partner more understanding and comforting than anyone he'd ever known in the humble town of South Park.

Honestly, Craig Tucker had it made. He had a nicely sized apartment with the only person who could stand being around the stoic raven at all times. And he was happy. Now, Craig didn't usually show or voice his happiness because that would shatter his hard outer shell he'd been building for years, but he was happy. He loved his family, his friends,Tweek. His Tweek.

Tweek. The guy with bright blond hair, constantly standing on end, and wide, brown eyes. 'Like coffee beans,' He would think. Like the coffee that the shorter male had been hopelessly addicted to through their childhood. Craig blinked back to reality and stared at his door. The door to his apartment. Their apartment. The poison, for Kuzco. Kuzco's poison. Oh god how long had he been there? Too long Probably. Craig unlocked the door and walked into the apartment, flicking the lights on. He tossed his keys to the side, the sound of metal hitting the coffee table filled the room. Something was... Off.

It was too quiet. Tweek didn't like when it was so silent, neither did Craig, honestly. It was too much like a horror movie, quiet and unsettling. But Tweek was never quiet himself, no. That's what really felt off. Always moving, doing something, the blond would always be rushing around the apartment when Craig got home. He was always there when Craig got home.

But not today.

And that's when he noticed it.

Craig seemed to freeze for a moment before dropping to hit knees and frantically crawling towards the hallway closet. The closer he got, the more muffled cries of panic hit his ears and he felt sick.

Sick and afraid.

It was Tweek. Tweek, curled up on the ground of the closet with his arms and legs bound with rope. Tweek, with duct tape covering his mouth and preventing him from saying anything at all. Tweek, coffee-bean eyes wide and dark with fear, red from crying. Tears streamed down his face, his nose was just as red as his watery eyes were.

Craig felt sick.

He tore the tape away from the blond's lips, and held his face as Tweek screamed. His voice was ragged, raspy and dry. But no matter how much Tweek cried, Craig continued to hold him. He held the back of his neck as the shorter hyperventilated into his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles into his back. Craig whispered to him, trying the calm down his boyfriend, and it seemed to work for awhile.

Until Tweek looked up.

Tweek's eyes had become tired and lidded,but when he pulled away and looked up, the look of fear washed over the blond's face again. Craig looked behind him, trying to focus on what Tweek was looking at. This prove to be easier than it believed to be, as it wasn't a what. A who instead, and it wasn't the friendly Dr. Seuss kind of Who. Craig wished it was, he really really did.

Clyde Donovan, Craig's best friend (Next to Tweek that is) and righthand man.

He had a knife gripped in that right hand. Call it cliché, but Clyde-fucking-Donovan was holding the knife, face blank of expression. Well, maybe a tinge of anger. Without thinking, Craig got up and grabbed Clyde by the wrists. The brunet was soon pinned to a bookshelf, struggling for freedom. Craig was stronger than Clyde and they both knew it. Almost immediately, the kitchen knife slipped away from Clyde's hand, sliding across the wooden floor.

* * *

 

_Please don't go, I'll eat you whole,_

_I love you so, I love you so, I love you so_

 

* * *

 

"Why do you protect him?" The voice came as a surprise to Craig, who narrowed his eyes bitterly at his 'friend'. "I can make you just as happy, if not more."

Before Craig could do so much as think of a response, Clyde had shoved Craig off of him. The brunet seemed to pounce, almost, lunging himself at the other. They wrestled, Clyde allowing his hands to reach and grab at Craig's neck. The noirette reached back, trying to grab something, anything, to pull himself out of Clyde's grip. Craig wrapper his hands around marble, knocking over cups and containers as he struggled and curled away from Clyde, who was trying his best to weave his fingers around the other's neck.

They went flying over the counter.

In the back of his head, Craig could hear Tweek crying and struggling to free himself, but in the moment, what he saw was Clyde. Clyde gripping at his shoulders, eyes full of hatred. Craig couldn't say he didn't feel the same. When the two landed, Craig's face hit the ground while his ex-friend landed comfortably on his back. Lucky bastard. The noirette started to get up, crawling away from Clyde and cupping his nose. Yeah, that was blood alright.

Craig felt hands grasp at his ankles, nails digging into his skin, but he didn't stop moving. He grabbed at the counter and pulled himself up, away from Clyde. He was crying. Craig was crying and be hadn't even realized it. Tuckers didn't cry. Craig didn't cry.

"Look at you," Clyde pulled himself up, looking at Craig from the corner of his eye. "You're in pain. I can make it go away." The brunet's voice got softer as he continued, less bitter. It made Craig sick. "Can he?"

The taller boy wiped his face with the back of his hand, brushing away tears and smearing blood from his nose. Despite the intensity of the moment, he managed to huff out a response, dull and venomous.

"Why are you doing this?"

Craig barely registered the glass heading towards him but he rushed to the side. His eyes squeezed shut as if he had actually been hit, the sound of glass shattering and falling to the ground rung in his ears. When Craig opened an eye, Clyde was heaving in the kitchen, eyes narrowed. His sweet facade was gone. He barely even recognized him.

"I LOVE YOU, YOU JACKASS!" The brunet screeched, voice cracking. "I loved you for YEARS, and yet you chased after that FREAK like some kind of LOVESICK PUPPY. You should be with ME." He hissed, shooting a glare towards the closet they both knew Tweek was hiding in.

Craig could tell that Clyde was crying. His voice gave it away. That made him angrier.

Who was Clyde to tell him who to love. Who was Clyde to say that about Tweek. Who was Clyde to fucking _cry_ after all he had put Tweek through. Craig grit his teeth. He didn't fight anymore. Tweek didn't like seeing him covered in cuts and bruises. So he stopped fighting. For Tweek. For Tweek, this was all for Tweek. Craig was smitten and he knew it. He wouldn't let Clyde just come into his home and do this shit. Do this shit to him or Tweek.

Craig looked around, for something. He didn't know what exactly but he needed something. Maybe a glass bottle of his own to throw, it didn't matter. He just wanted to break something. Like Clyde's nose. Craig's thoughts were cut short though, as he saw Clyde taking a step towards him.

* * *

 

_Muscle to muscle and toe to toe,_

_The fear has gripped me but here I go_

 

* * *

 

Tweek always had a knack for picking up junk and using it to make things. He had made a tire-swing for Craig when they were kids and they would sit in it and watch the world go by. Craig had always liked it when they sat alon in comfortable quiet, just leaning on each other. He wished he could lean on Tweek now.

The blond would drag things into the apartment to use as tables, seats, etcetera, and Craig thought it was absolutely adorable. So, no matter how much space things took up, he never threw away any of Tweek's junk.

He was glad he didn't.

The noirette grabbed a cinder block that had been part of a makeshift storage unit. Papers, pens, and pencils flew from the square hole of the block and scattered the floor noisily. Craig didn't even think about the weight of it or how his fingers hurt digging into it, he just swung. Swung at Clyde, who was too far for him to hit anyways.

Who caught the block with a scowl. Clyde didn't even look that angry. More offended if anything.

Craig tried to yank the block back but Clyde held on just as tightly.

"Don't you remember the days when we were best friends, Craig? The summers we spent playing shitty Nintendo games and watching bad movies?" Clyde huffed out words, staring right at the other. "It was just you and me, sometimes Token." The brunet pulled, causing Craig to trip over his own feet a bit. "You were mine."

"I don't belong to anyone you prick-" He hissed, trying to get the cinder block back to himself. Looks like the crybaby had actually gotten some muscle.

Clyde jerked forward, knocking the block into Craig's abdomen swiftly. In the process, though, his fingers slipped away and released the cinder into the other. The noirette stuttered back a bit, heaving as the block had knocked the air right out of him. Craig glared at Clyde, who was glaring back with the same harsh intensity.

Craig lifted the cinder, face breaking from angry to actual rage. That seemed to surprise Clyde, as his face immediately fell.

The brunet turned on his heels quickly, running down the hall, away from the other. Clyde was bawling, screaming even. How dare he act like the victim. Craig grabbed at the other boy's arm but Clyde was able to rip away from his jacket.

The sounds of Clyde sobbing and blubbering out incoherent nonsense that could only be referred to as 'baby gibberish' filled the apartment, but the noirette couldn't hear it. He only heard Tweek crying like he did earlier. Tweek wheezing and catching his breath. Tweek wiping his face and looking at Craig with his big brown eyes.

For Tweek.

Clyde ducked into a bathroom and Craig could hear the sound of water dripping. Tweek had probably turned the bath's nozzle on before... 'meeting' Clyde.

 

* * *

 

_She may contain the urge to run away_

_But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks_

 

* * *

 

Clyde was backed up in the bathroom and Craig was beginning to think this was more and more like a horror movie. But he wasn't the villain, Clyde was. Clyde did this.

And yet, Craig feel guilt.

That doesn't stop his body from acting, though, and the cinder block collides with Clyde's head. The sound of shattering is loud, blood and flesh squishing together to make an unholy squelching sound and there is no doubt that Clyde is no longer living. Craig staggers back from the blow, staring at the other with wide eyes. He doesn't know what he expected.

The brunet falls back, landing in the filled bathtub in an almost perfect sort of way. His hair floats away from his sweat-coated forehead as his body sinks below the water. Craig watches, face blank again, and looks down at the thing he used to actually murder his friend. Ex-friend.

As the water starts turning a pale sort of red aand the room starts to smell of pennies, Craig lift the block and drops it on Clyde's chest. He didn't know what exactly brought him to do this, Clyde was already gone, but he wanted to make sure he drowned. He wanted to make sure he didn't come back.

And all like that, Craig fell to his knees. THE Craig Tucker fell to him knees and _cried_. 'Guilt,' He supposed.

When Tweek found him, the taller boy was sitting on the edge of the tub and staring at the ground. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. The blond held onto Craig and whispered comforting words like the other would to him. They were afraid and they were wracked with guilt and blood was on their floors but they held on to each other. They held on. And neither would let go for the night.

 

* * *

_Please Don't go, please don't go,_

_I love you so, I love you so_

 

**Author's Note:**

> oof.


End file.
